To Follow Her Heart Read online

  “I’ve been ready for days, actually.”

  “And Jeremy, what do you hear from him?” She took off her cloak and hung it on a peg near the door. She tossed her head to shake out her curls.

  “He was here last night but left again almost immediately for Winter Harbor. He has the job. He begins today. It all is happening so quickly.”

  “Well, at last is all I can say.” She smiled at Patience. “And I am very happy for you.”

  “He gave up his room at the boardinghouse, and this Saturday he will come and take me out to look at building lots.” She wanted to pinch herself, it all seemed like such a dream. “I’m not dreaming, am I, Lizzie?”

  They both laughed. “No, you are not. But I fear you might walk through today as if you are in one. How will you concentrate with the girls? Do you want me to take them for a sewing lesson?”

  “No, no. That is later in the week. We shall be fine. I think.” She could feel her face warm with a blush.

  “Well, I am here if you need help. And nothing I have to do today is more important than you are to me.” The crinkles around her violet eyes deepened as she smiled.

  Patience wrapped her arms about her friend. “Thank you. You mean much to me, too, Lizzie. Oh, I’d better start the oven fire. I want to bake the bread I brought home.”

  Young girls’ voices sounded on the walk. Lizzie put out a hand. “I shall tend to the bread. Go meet your students.”

  She opened the door to Mercy, Little Mary, and four more girls from the village, all in pretty dresses freshly ironed for their first day of school. Their faces had a well-scrubbed glow, and their eagerness was palpable. Mosh followed them in with the same enthusiasm, his tail all a-wag.

  “Good morrow, my ladies.” Patience waited for their response. With none coming, she gave a prompt. “Each morning, when you come to school, I shall say, ‘Good morrow’ and you shall say, ‘Good morrow, Miss Terry.’ And you shall curtsey—just a small curtsey, for you are small girls. Do you see? Like this.” And she grasped her skirt and tucked one foot behind the other before she dipped. “Can you do that?”

  The girls did almost perfect curtsies. “Oh, you’ve been practicing at home, I can tell. Very good! Now remember, you shall do that each morning. Now follow me to our classroom, and I shall show you your writing instruments, and we shall talk about the rules for our class.”

  Little Mary stopped before going through the classroom door. “Miss Terry, may Mosh come to our class, too?”

  Mosh wagged his tail at the sound of his name but waited for a summons.

  “Well, yes, I do think we should have Mosh with us, as long as he does not make a nuisance of himself. Right, Mosh? You promise to behave yourself, don’t you?” He leapt to his feet and followed the girls. “I suppose that was a yes.”

  Watching Mosh watch the girls gave Patience an idea for an art project. She took out large sheets of Lizzie’s parchment and sketching pencils and sat the girls down. She told them to sketch the wolf-dog. When Mosh moved, the girls would cry out “stay” and tell Miss Terry their picture was ruined. But she showed them how to put the dog in their picture into movement, and soon they delighted every time Mosh so much as scratched. And if he sat too still, Mercy would get out of her seat and run to move his foot. She squealed with delight when he jumped up and ran after her.

  The week flew by, and Patience was grateful she had her girls and the classes to help her get through it. They were smart girls, and already they were farther into their lessons than she had planned. By the time they finished with Dame School, the girls would be proficient at reading their Bibles and reading and writing recipes. Lizzie helped by bringing them into her sewing room to work on samplers and, weather permitting, they went outside to learn about the forest animals and plants. Mosh seemed to think he was an expert in that field of study.

  Patience climbed into her bed on the last night of the school week exhausted but happy. On the morrow, she would see Jeremy, and they would ride out to Winter Harbor. She would get her first glimpse of her new life, and that would be enough to get her through the ensuing weeks. She closed her eyes and said her prayers, then snuggled into the covers. But it wasn’t long before her eyes popped open and she lay there remembering Jeremy’s last kiss.

  24

  November 12, 1664

  Winter Harbor, Long Island

  Jeremy hitched the wagon to Ink. “Let’s go, boy. I know you’d rather not haul the cart, but Patience will be with us on our return.” And Mosh, too. The woman and dog had become inseparable. He prompted his horse into a trot and enjoyed the scenery, if not the chill of the air.

  He came into Southold and drove straight to Patience’s house. He tied Ink to the gate out front and walked briskly to the door. A knock brought no answer. He thought it odd he did not hear Mosh. He waited a moment and knocked again. He opened the door a crack. “Hello?” There was no answer, but he could see her reticule on the table.

  On a hunch, he walked around to the back and was greeted first by Mosh. “Why, hello there, boy. Where is she?” As he asked the question, he spotted Joshua Hobart on the adjacent road, stopped at the fence, in conversation with Patience. Both turned as he called and strode across the corner of her property to reach them.

  “I was worried for a minute there, but I see you are in excellent company. Good morrow, Reverend.” He stuck out his hand, and the two men shook before he draped his arm around Patience.

  “Jeremy! We were just talking about you. I was telling Reverend Hobart about the lots we shall look at by Winter Harbor.”

  “Yes, there are a couple of choice locations I’d like to show her today. Have you been out that way, Reverend?”

  “Please, call me Joshua. No, I have not. It sounds like it would be worth a trip. Certainly, once you’ve settled I should be pleased to come to call.”

  “Yes, indeed. Well, my love, are you ready to go?”

  She shivered. “Yes, but I think I need to bring a quilt for the ride. Reverend Hobart, it was very good to see you again.” She turned to Jeremy. “The reverend had some good news. He has located a church over near Flushing that is looking for a minister, and they are interested in having him come preach.”

  “Wonderful news, Joshua.”

  “Why, thank you. Good day to you now, and enjoy your ride.”

  “Thank you.” They walked back to the house, and Jeremy waited while Patience fetched a quilt and her reticule.

  Mosh jumped in the cart before he was even invited, and Jeremy helped Patience up to her seat. He climbed up beside her. “I was surprised to see the reverend still in these parts. For some reason I thought he was just traveling through while he looks for a parish.”

  “He was. But I think he rather favors the north fork. But he’s not been able to find a church in need of him.”

  “Well, any church would be blessed to have him, of course.”

  “Reverend Youngs is fond of him. Who knows, mayhap someday he will want to retire and Reverend Hobart shall take his place.”

  The oak and chestnut trees that lined the road, long since bare, looked like tall, dark sentinels with arms outstretched as Jeremy steered the wagon through the winter gloom.

  Patience shivered under her quilt. “I almost wish it would snow than look so gloomy.”

  Jeremy looked at the leaden skies. “You may get your wish before our journey is over. Pray we do not get stuck.”

  “Except that tomorrow we have designated as the day of thanksgiving, and we need to be back. You are staying for the dinner tomorrow, yes?”

  “I should tell Harry if that is what I plan. To tell you the truth, I think he and I both forgot. Mayhap he would like to come back with us and stay for the dinner, as well.”

  She leaned against his shoulder. “That would be very nice. Do you like this Harry?”

  “Well, I do. I think he might seem a little rough around the edges to you. But under all his gruff, he’s a good man. He is excited to help me with a start
in shipbuilding. And it seems I can help him, too. I’m certain he could do this himself, but he seems to think he needs me.”

  “Then I know I will like him too.”

  The road led them closer to the water, and the terrain changed quickly to sand and beach grass. The oak and chestnut trees were replaced with gray birch and bayberry.

  Jeremy looked down at Patience and kissed the top of her head. “I thought I could show you the dock and we could have dinner with Harry at Mrs. Sweeney’s. Then we will ride out to the hill first and look at the spot I’ve fallen in love with. You can see the bay from one side and the marsh from the other. After that we can go to the river, and I will show you the lots Thomas Mapes laid out.”

  “And then come back to the village to get Harry?”

  “Yes, I suppose we would have to, unless he tells us no.”

  The large dockyard appeared as they rounded a bend, and he stretched his arm and pointed out the boat shop where he worked with Harry. “There, that’s him, sitting over on the trunk.”

  “He looks cold and a little lonely.”

  Jeremy shook his head. “I don’t believe he ever gets cold. In the morning when I get out of my bunk I’m freezing—he’s already been up an hour and no fire. It’s like he thrives on the cold.” He reined in Ink. “Whoa, boy.”

  He helped her off the cart, and Mosh followed as they made their way out onto the pier. Harry leapt from the trunk, excited to see Jeremy again and make Patience’s acquaintance. Perhaps he had been a little lonely.

  They dined on fish at Mrs. Sweeney’s, and Harry and Patience could not stop talking. They took to each other in the way two people who know loss do. When she invited Harry to the thanksgiving dinner, he accepted without hesitation, and Jeremy promised him they would circle around to get him before heading back to Southold. Hopefully, Mrs. Bayley still would have a room or two.

  On the ride to the top of the hill, Jeremy noticed Patience’s pale-knuckle grip on the side board. But after they climbed down off the cart and gazed down at the still-green marsh, her expression softened. She ran to the other side, Mosh at her heels. “Oh, Jeremy—look, the bay. There’s Mrs. Sweeney’s. And the dock. I think I could watch you work from here.” She smiled up at him, her blond hair escaping the comb’s hold.

  He spread her quilt among maidenhair ferns and bearberry bushes with reddish-purple leaves studded with red berries. With Mosh between them, they sat for as long as they could in the cold, and he knew they both dreamed of their life together on this hill.

  He brought her to him and kissed her lips firmly before pulling back and looking deep into her blue eyes, bright with cold. “Are you ready to go and see the next lot?”

  “Oh yes, but I don’t know how it could be lovelier.”

  He stood and held out his hands to pull her to her feet. “Well, let’s go look. You will have to tell me.”

  They climbed back into the cart after Mosh, and Jeremy eased it down the hill. It was a short ride to Thomas Benedict Creek.

  The river ran slowly here, and he led her by the hand to the shore. He pointed down at the river’s edge. “That’s where we would build a house, and up behind it I’d build an icehouse. This river will freeze come January and February, and I should be able to cut blocks of ice from it and store them in the icehouse.” He pointed in another direction. “And over there would be your kitchen garden.”

  She stood close to him as he pointed out these things, and he had to remind himself about all he wanted to tell her. Otherwise he would just have to kiss her again.

  Mosh took off through cordgrass and sedge after a rabbit, but it proved quicker than he. They turned back to the river and he grabbed her hand. “We are a little like the river, you know.”

  Patience looked up. “How is that?”

  “Well, it runs slow and steady, but it gets there. Look at us—we’ve been slow and steady, and we are going to get there.”

  Her laughter tinkled on the cold air. “I’m not so certain about steady, but I shall give you slow.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

  “Patience, this is difficult for me to say, but I want you to know I truly want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know sometimes it doesn’t seem like it. It occurs to me that I never properly asked you to marry me.” He lowered himself to one knee while holding her hand with both of his. “Patience, will you?”

  She laughed. “Will I what? You must say it if you are going all the way down on one knee.”

  “You are going to make me, aren’t you?” He took a breath. “Very well, Patience Terry, will you marry me?”

  Her voice was but a whisper when she said, “Yes, yes!”

  Her crystal-blue eyes twinkled as he stood to kiss her. It was warm and wonderful, and he knew he’d done the right thing. He let his lips linger on hers, and he could feel the tremble in her fingers as they caressed his neck. As she pulled back, a slow smile spread across her face.

  He grabbed her hand and whistled for Mosh. The ride back to Winter Harbor was quiet, and Jeremy wondered if Patience thought the same thoughts as he. It might take some time to plan the wedding and get settled out here, but they would do it and be happy. It hadn’t seemed like much of a blessing when he’d been thrown into the sea, but now he could count it as one, for it had brought him back to Patience.

  Harry was waiting for them when they got back to the dock, and soon they were all on their way to Southold. Jeremy enjoyed listening to the captain chatter with Patience and learned a few things about the old man, as well. He’d had a family once—a wife and four loving children—back when he lived in Massachusetts. But they’d been killed in the Indian wars while he was out to sea. He could still remember the day he returned, only to find the village gone. He went back to sea and vowed never to return. And he hadn’t. When he lost his leg, he’d come to Long Island and never looked back.

  Patience turned to him. “I’d forgotten the terrible creaking of the ships.”

  “The creaking?”

  “Yes. ’Tis the awful sound of wet wood against wet wood. When you are on a ship, the sound is constant.”

  Jeremy looked at Harry, one eyebrow cocked. “I suppose when one spends as much time on the sea as we two, one does not notice so much.”

  When they arrived in Southold, it was late, but Mrs. Bayley gave him and the captain a room. After making sure that Harry was settled, Jeremy walked Patience and Mosh home. He stood at her door and took her in his arms. “I enjoyed spending the day with you. I can’t remember when we last did something like that.”

  “I’m not sure we ever have.” Patience’s eyes were soft, and a small smile played on her lips.

  “Well, we’d best start planning days like this. Tomorrow, for one. I’m looking forward to the dinner after church.”

  “I am too, but I’m not feeling very ready. It shall be an early morning for me.” She looked down at Mosh. “And I am depending on you to get me up.”

  He rested his chin on the top of her head. “We shall take these next days a day at a time. Tomorrow, Harry and I will go back to the harbor after dinner. Next Saturday, I imagine he and I will work straight through. It might be that way for a few weeks. Can you manage that?” He drew back and looked at her. Her eyes were a blue mist.

  “I’d rather have you here, I know that. But if that is what you must do, I shall spend my Saturdays as I always have, doing my wash and preparing the next week’s lessons. But I shall be dreaming of you and this day while I’m working.”

  “Thank you. You’ve made it easier for me to do what I need to do.” He gave her a warm kiss in farewell. “Now go, warm yourself by the fire and then get some sleep.”

  “Good night, Jeremy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He watched her slip inside with Mosh. As he walked back across the road to Mrs. Bayley’s, he prayed the next few weeks would go quickly. Then he and Patience could begin building their home and their life together. He wanted this, did he not? There was a time he wou
ld have said no, but at this moment it never seemed so right. It was, wasn’t it?

  25

  November 13, 1664

  Southold

  Patience’s Sunday morning walk was brisk as she hurried in the crisp cold to church. She pulled her red cloak tighter around her. There was no way to carry everything for the large dinner planned between services in the hall. It was an abundant harvest this year, and following the tradition of many of the colonies, today would be a special day of thanksgiving. Perhaps she could persuade Jeremy to come back with her immediately after the morning service and help her tote the delicacies she’d prepared for the feast.

  She rushed through the door just as the second bell rang. There was a buzz in the vestibule as families moved to take their seats. She saw that the Hortons had gathered in their pew box, but she didn’t see Jeremy. When they were married, she would sit with him in the Horton row, but for now she took her seat with the other single women.

  As she waited for the service to begin, she glanced across the aisle. Reverend Joshua Hobart sat in the single men’s pew. His warm brown eyes met hers, and he smiled and nodded. She returned his smile, but with downcast eyes, and a warmth crept up her neck. Where was Jeremy? She strained to look at the back of the room. He should be here with Harry.

  Reverend Youngs stepped up to the pulpit, and the congregation rose to sing Psalm 95, her favorite. “Let us come before His face with praise: let us sing loud unto Him with Psalms.”

  After prayers of praise and thanksgiving, they all settled back into their pews. She loved this particular service, but without Jeremy present, she found it hard to concentrate. She sensed her eyes wandering and constantly snapped them back to the front. Once she glanced sideways at Reverend Hobart. Why had she been heedless of the fact that he was a very eligible widower?

  At last the long service ended, and she turned to file out with the congregation. The ladies began to gather to set up the dinner almost at once. She inched her way toward the door so she could go retrieve her contributions to the meal. Joshua Hobart fell in step beside her.